


waxing/waning

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: lowercase and lack of punctuation is on purpose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:48:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: something happens to you, and the world keeps turning.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: Anonymous





	waxing/waning

**Author's Note:**

> you can make of this what you will

theres something to be said about actively making things worse. its not necessarily a poetic or beautiful action, nothing graceful or admirable in the motions, but it is something to do. and when the days flow by with a smooth numbness more like drowning than the natural flow of time, thats all you really need. 

-

it doesn't feel like anything in particular. it feels wrong, backwards somehow, to try and put a name to the feeling. you simply let it claw and eat away at you, feeling your heartbeat in your throat and your body seize with a type of shock. youre not unfamiliar with it. it accompanies you, rests inside you deep, waiting for these moments where you let it in. let it consume you, overtake your mind until the world becomes just as empty as it feels. 

-

your chest reverberates with a hollow sound. you think you can hear it ringing in your ears, as you can feel it vibrating in your chest, but you can't quite grasp the sound. everything is slipping through your fingers these days, both too fast and too slow for you to truly get a grip. its impossible to acclimate. you can only struggle against it, trying to reclaim some part of yourself from the jumbled mess of words and thoughts and feelings. it doesnt work. 

-

you sit and stare blankly out into the distance, feeling the sun glaring down on you. its hot, it scorches you if you sit in its heat for too long. you remain still, and let it do its work. the air is still, and you dont breathe, and you let yourself be cleansed. 

-

you walk the fine line between calm and apathetic, numb and empty. (its not immediately obvious, but you've learned the difference between the two. youre intimately familiar.) youre bold enough to believe no one can tell when youre missing, when its eating away at you from the inside, and you're too immersed in your own pain to pay attention. things are easy, in that sense. everything is simple when people believe its your natural disposition. 

-

its become hard to pinpoint your feelings about anything, anymore. everything is a swirl, a brown mix of paints, impossible to pick out any one hue. you take it for what it is. you always do. 

-

everything is covered in shadows. you hear voices but faces and bodies are constantly silhouetted in an inky, impenetrable black. the sounds reach you, but theyre incomprehensible. you give up trying to make sense of the cacophony, and let yourself be pulled along. strerched like taffy, in many different directions. it doesnt matter much to you who you follow in the end, only the satiating of the feeling crawling in your chest, making a permanent home inside you. 

-

you find that you've been hallowed out and replaced by something different.  
the world turns just the same.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
